a silver collar, for you are my best
friend." Then Bridget brought Finnette her supper of bread and milk.

ABOUT THE DEER.

"Look! look!" said Ernest, "see the deer! It has got out of the deer
park. I did not know deer could run like that!"

The frightened creature was running down Washington street. He darted
in and out among the horses and carriages, and people. He leaped over
the heads of the children.

Ernest and his mother stopped to look; everybody stopped to look. On
and on he ran till he came to the river, then he leaped into the deep
water and was drowned. Was it not a pity? The pretty deer that Ernest
had fed so often on Boston Common! He almost cried when he thought of
it.

How many of you have ever seen deer? In many of the United States they
are still found in the woods. They are kept in almost all public
parks.

Deer are gentle creatures, and are easily tamed. But I think they are
happiest when they are free to roam the woods where they like.

They eat the tender grass in the spring, and sometimes, if they live
near farms, they break into the corn and wheat fields.

In the winter they eat the seed vessels of the wild rose, the hawthorn
buds, the brambles and leaves. They like acorns, and, in the South,
they eat the persimmons. The persimmon is a yellow plum. They feed in
the night.

In hot summer days they like to wade into the ponds and rivers, and
stand under water, all but their noses.

The young deer are called fawns; they are pretty spotted creatures.
The mother keeps them in a quiet place where she thinks the hunters
and dogs cannot get them; for men often hunt the wild deer. It is a
great pity to kill them for sport, is it not?

[Illustration: HOW FLEET HE IS!]

The deer hears quickly, and his scent is very keen too. When the
hunters are after him, how fleet he is! Sometimes he leaps into the
water and swims. Then the dogs lose the scent and cannot follow him.
The male deer sheds his horns every year.

When the horns are growing they look as if they were covered with
velvet.

[Illustration: HAVE THEY NO LANGUAGE?]

[Illustration: {A DOG LYING DOWN.}]

EVERYBODY'S DOG.

Seen me? Of course you have seen me before.
I can't count the times I have been at your door.
Where do I live? Why, everywhere, here!
My name? Well, I own it is rather queer;
Some call me "good fellow," or "Fido," or "Tray,"
But I come just the same, whatever they say.